Everlasting Love
by xxtwilight
Summary: Esme was sixteen when she met Carlisle. What happened between them? This is an exploration of their relationship from the moment they met, fell in love, married, and shared many other experiences. The rating may be changed. Please R&R.
1. Fateful Fall

Summary: _Esme was sixteen when she met Carlisle. What happened between them? This is an exploration of their relationship from the moment they met, fell in love, married, and shared many other experiences. The rating may be changed. Please R&R._****

**Note: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the Twilight series.**

**Hey guys! I always loved Carlisle and I wanted to find out what happened between him and Esme. Hope you like it!**

"Ah!" I screamed, instinctively biting down on my lower lip. The force was more enough to break it, and, sure enough, I felt a trickle of blood run down the side of my chin. Uncaring, my teeth continued bearing down on my broken lip until the trail of blood on my chin began dripping on my blouse, each drop adding a grotesque, almost morbid stain to the pristine flowers stitched on my hemming.

What_ would_ have been a searing pain in my lower lip was drowned out by the horrific, excruciating fire consuming my leg.

Unable to move, I cried out, tears streaming down my cheeks, blurring my eyesight, as the pain flared to a sickening degree.

"Oh my God! Esme? Are you alright? Help! Oh, God—_somebody please help!_" A panicked voice cried out, capturing my attention for a moment before the fire began building again.

I recognized the voice to be Alexandra's.

Suddenly, the events leading up to the fire in my leg were crystal clear in my mind—as if hearing Alexandra's voice had made all the difference in the world.

Because of my current, tortured state of being, only snippets of earlier, subsequent events played through my mind. I was grateful for the distraction—no matter how small it may be—of _anything_ to ease the pain.

"_Come on, Esme! It will be fun—I promise." Alexandra laughed, her smile a flash of white teeth. She pushed me forwards towards the tall, intimidating tree in my backyard, with very few branches as far as I could see._

"_I'm not so sure about this, Alexandra…" I trailed off, my voice growing more apprehensive by the moment._

_Alexandra wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Oh, Esme, you aren't worried, are you?" Her forehead wrinkled in mock surprise._

_Of course I was worried. Who wouldn't be worried before climbing a twenty foot tall tree for the first time in their life?_

"_I'll be right here to catch you if you fall." She assured me, excitement once again filling her voice. "Please, Esme! You'll do fine—I swear."_

_I banished the paranoid stream of thoughts that every chancy activity seemed to trigger. Alexandra was always such an enchanting girl to be around—carefree, beautiful as she was. I could be like her, but first, I had to stop worrying._

"_I'll do it." I grinned, my voice sounding much more confident than I felt. I had no idea where the words came from, but I welcomed them fearlessly._

_I steadied myself on the lowest branch, slowly, carefully reaching up to the second. Feeling surer of myself, I swung my legs up around the second branch. I grinned in spite of myself._

_The third branch was easy—I perched atop it almost effortlessly._

_The fourth._

_The fifth._

_Triumph was a strange high. Despite the fear-inspiring distance from the ground, and the way I hung precariously from the sixth branch, my mind soared at the freedom._

_Sucking in the heady air, I heaved. I pushed._

_I fell, air whizzing by me at an alarming speed._

_Air._

_Leaves._

_Grass._

_Ground._

_I landed on my leg, shocked that I had fallen. At first, I felt nothing, only hearing a sickening snap before realizing what had happened, just as the intense, excruciating pain burst into life._

"Alexandra." I gasped, my voice raspy.

"Yes? Yes? Esme? What do you want?" Her hands shook from panic, and her frenzied eyes silently begged me to be okay.

"I need…"—gasp—"…a…"—sharp inhale—"…doctor." I managed to communicate to her, heaving from the effort.

"Right. Of course. A doctor. I'll take care of that." Her voice wavered, her eyes frantic, and I could see that her response was equally directed at herself.

Suddenly, the flames lashed out, engulfing me, causing the world around me to spin. I was vaguely aware of the frenzied shouts of confusion sounding around me, some from my parents, some from Alexandra. My eyelids fluttered shut, a somehow finalizing my unconsciousness.

Blackness surrounded me, numbing and deadening the fire in my leg.

I was only vaguely aware of the hum of a car as we drove to the hospital.

**Hey guys! This is only the BEGINNING of the Esme/Carlisle story I have in my head. Please be patient! I wanted to show the events leading up to Esme's visit to the hospital, and, inevitably, her meeting with Carlisle.**

**Carlisle will be in the next chapter, I promise! **

**Please, please, please leave me reviews! It helps to know that people are reading/liking my writing. Also, I love constructive criticism!**

**A _MILLION_ thanks to all of my reviewers! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be writing.**

**-xxtwilight **


	2. Irrational, True Love at First Sight

**Note: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the Twilight series.**

Sounds and voices around me grew in volume until the room seemed to hum from all the noise. Realizing the blackness surrounding me was a result of closed eyes, I tried to open them. My eyelids suddenly felt heavy as I fluttered them, unable to open them completely.

"Esme? Esme, honey, are you awake?" My mother's anxious voice instantly pulled me out of my sleep. My eyelids flew open in shock.

Feeling disoriented, I glancing around at my surroundings. I realized I was in a hospital room, lying down on a twin mattress. Both of my parents and Alexandra stood gathered around my bed, peering down at me with worried expressions. But neither the odd, disorienting hospital room nor my visitors were what held my attention.

A tall, looming figure stood at the entrance of the room, leaning against the wall. The light did not hit where he stood, and hid his face in a shadow. Though his formal hospital attire clearly distinguished him as a doctor, his casual stance and messy blonde hair seemed more appropriate for a model. His pale, alabaster skin instantly set him apart from the group hovering around my bed.

Intrigued, I desperately tried to focus on the man, but my recent slumber had left a thick haze in my mind, making concentration impossible.

Fighting sleep was a losing battle. Feeling dissatisfied but exhausted, I succumbed, allowing my eyelids to droop and bring rest with them. God knows I needed to be refreshed if I was going to see that curious doctor again.

The knowledge that I would see the odd, intriguing young doctor as soon as I awoke comforted me, allowing me to slip into a deep and restful sleep.

Awakening occurred much more quickly this time.

My body felt stiff and fragile, as though I had been sleeping for a long time. Perhaps I had.

Though my body was covered by a thick, hospital quilt, I could clearly see a lump—my _leg_?—hidden beneath it. Yawning, I rubbed my eyes, wondering if the fall from the tree in my backyard had truly broken my leg.

"Oh, you're awake! Thank goodness." The relieved voice of a nurse sounded from the doorway.

"Have I been asleep long?" I asked, confused. My voice rasped as I spoke, a sure sign of fatigue, and I quietly cleared my throat.

"Oh, yes—but we gave you enough anesthetics to be knocked out for hours, just to be safe." she said, making her way to the bed.

"What… happened?" I asked, instantly cautious. I was not sure I wanted to know the answer, especially in my fragile state.

"You fell." she stated simply. I suddenly took a liking to the nurse—perhaps she understood my desire to know _less_ than_ more_ about the accident.

"The doctor will be in soon, miss." she assured me, patting my arm affectionately before leaving. As soon as she closed the door, I felt a wave of loneliness wash through me, unhappy to be alone.

I wondered where my parents were, or Alexandra, for that matter. I hoped Alexandra had not felt guilty about the incident, though she _was_ partly to blame for my broken leg. Perhaps she had taken it upon herself to see that I was never without a cup of tea, and she was out getting me one.

My thoughts drifted as I stared at the ceiling, imagining patterns along the tiles.

This all stopped the_ instant_ a familiar, tall man stepped through the door.

My thoughts came to a sudden halt, turning into incoherent stutters and rambles. My breath hitched as I stared, eyes wide, shock written across my face, at the angel before me.

To call this man a mere _doctor _was beyond insulting. Never before had I seen such outrageous perfection. His eyes, the largest and most beautiful I had ever seen, were fringed by the thickest of black lashes, standing in stark contrast with the paleness of his face. Each of his features—the contours of his face, stunning and chiseled to perfection—_begged_ for my attention. My eyes did not know quite where to look, for _every _part of his face was absurdly lovely—an excessiveness that I had not yet grown accustomed to. My eyes continued to rake over the set of his jaw, square and masculine, to the gleaming ringlets of blonde hair fringing his forehead. At that moment, I felt content to sit and look at this angel's face for the rest of eternity.

"Is this the room of Esme Platt?"

The sound of his musical voice cut through the awkward silence I had not taken note of. I realized, with a shock, that I had been rudely staring.

He cleared his throat.

"Yes—yes, it is." I choked out, instantly wishing I had just nodded to avoid embarrassing myself by speaking.

He glanced down at his notes. Only when he did this did I notice a clipboard sitting in his hands.

"Hello, then. I see I am in the right room." he murmured, meeting my gaze. "My name is Doctor Cullen."

He loped quickly to my side—faster than I would have imagined possible. His impossible grace brought on a new wave of shock, and, of course, infatuation.

I was focused so intently on his face that I did not notice his hands, holding up the lower end of the quilt.

"Do you mind?" His singer's voice did not fail to stun me, again. It took me a moment to realize what he wanted. I had to shake my head a few times to clear it before I could answer.

"No, not at all." _Anything. Anything for you,_ I felt like saying. But even_ I _was not so far-gone as to announce my instant lust for a doctor older than me, no matter how blatant it may have been.

He swiftly pulled up the quilt, exposing my calves. One was covered by a stiff, white plaster. I recognized it to be a cast.

As his smooth hands pressed and prodded against my leg and calf, I only slightly registered their coldness. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins with his every touch, all the while feeling _thrilled _that he was touching me, no matter how professional the occasion.

"Does this hurt?" He asked, his fingers applying only the _slightest_ amount of pressure to a place under the cast.

I shook my head, afraid to speak when he was touching me.

"Now?" He asked cautiously, moving his fingers to a different place along my calf. Though I was prepared to say 'no,' a stab of pain caused me to gasp, answering his question.

He instantly lightened the pressure, extracting his fingers from under my cast, his arm once again hanging beside him all in the blink of an eye.

"My apologies." he said, his eyes downcast and his beautiful voice regretful. I felt awful for making him unhappy, but even worse that he was no longer touching me. I felt ready to endure all the pain in the world just to experience his cool, smooth hands pressing against my calf once more.

"It's alright," I lied, hoping to assure him that I truly did_ not_ mind. At least, not what he was referring to—the pain.

As he jotted down some notes on his clipboard, I realized, with painful mortification, how indecent I must have looked.

I touched my hand to my head, feeling the trail of matted curls lying lifelessly along the pillow. My face must have looked even worse—swollen, exhausted, or even dirty from the fall. Mortified, I wondered why such an exquisite creature should be allowed to look upon an embarrassment like myself. Surely Doctor Cullen was only being polite because he pitied me—no proper, ladylike, sixteen year old girl should be climbing trees.

"That should be enough for now. You look like you need some rest—I'll call back the nurse for more sedatives." He murmured, pulling me out of my reverie.

As the intent of his words sunk in, I felt my chest jar slightly. _He was leaving? No! _My heart seemed to scream, horrified by the thought of Doctor Cullen's absence. Already, I felt my pulse increase as adrenaline pumped through my veins, leaving me panicked.

Seeming to sense my discomfort, Doctor Cullen came even closer to my side, and leaned down so that we were on the same level.

"I will stay here to keep an eye on you. You will feel better after you rest." He murmured reassuringly, his voice irresistible, as a different nurse than the one I had talked to earlier scurried in.

She carried what appeared to be a long,glass tube attached to a sharp, metal rod…

I gulped, my pulse soaring, as I cringed away from the shot.

As I was focused on the needle, I felt a cool, soothing hand touch mine. I looked over with a gasp as Doctor Cullen entwined his fingers in mine.

I looked up, meeting his gaze, as he quickly looked away—seemingly _embarrassed?_—but never let go of my hand. His touch sent shocks through my body, and I thrilled in the sensation.

As the nurse drew the needle closer to my arm, Doctor Cullen leaned into my side of the bed.

"This will only hurt for a moment," he whispered into my ear, his wintry breath delicious and distracting.

It was impossible _not_ to believe him.

As the needle drew nearer, I let my eyes droop, savoring the feel of his cool hand on mine.

I did not even feel a pinch as needle pricked me, though I _did_ feel the drowsy effects of the medication almost immediately.

Before falling asleep again, I _thought_ I heard Doctor Cullen whisper in my ear once more.

"I will be here when you awake, Esme."

And with that, I fell into a dreamless, restful sleep.

**Hey guys! The next chapter will be up VERY soon, because now I have Spring Break ahead of me and a lot of time to write.**

**Pretty, pretty **_**please**_** leave me reviews. Reviews are the **_**only **_**things encouraging me to write. It's an awful feeling when you think no one is reading/likes your writing.**

**Hope to hear from you soon!**

**-xxtwilight**


	3. Competition

**Note: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the Twilight series.**

**A million thanks to everyone who alerted me that Esme's maiden name is Platt!**

"...and then I made a face at her and said, 'YES, it is absolutely necessary that I visit with my friend in the hospital, didn't I tell you before? She is in a critical condition! I don't know how long she has left!' And then... wait, Esme? _Esme!_ Are you listening at all?"

The upward inflection of Alexandra's last statement—a clear sign of a question—brought me back to reality. I'd forgotten Alexandra and I were having a conversation. Or, rather, a one-sided monologue...

"Huh?" I asked, groggily, knowing that she was expecting a responce.

"I knew it! You weren't listening at all, were you?" Alexandra frowned unhappily, clearly disappointed by my lack of interest.

For a moment, I felt guilty. Alexandra had been nothing but cheerfully talkative for the past few hours, her presence a healthy distraction I probably needed but did not crave.

For once, I gave her my full attention, meeting her gaze as I looked up at her with—what I hoped to be—an earnest expression.

"I'm sorry, Alexandra. I'm trying—really. But I'm still a bit drowsy after all the medications they gave me..." I trailed off, my voice heavy with implications. I loved Alexandra and all her redeeming qualities, though subtlety certainly was not one of them. Nor attunedness, especially when it did not coencide with her wishes. And now, more than anything, Alexandra wanted an active listener—someone to sit on the edge of their seats as she concluded a petty, irrelevant, melodramatic story and, unhesitatingly, answered her infrequent questions, as she rarely paused long enough when speaking to ask a question.

I felt sorry that I could not be the active listener Alexandra craved. But not enough to overshadow my insatiable craving for Doctor Cullen.

_Mmmm,_ I thought, my eyes closing in contentment. Even his _name_ sparked excitement and butterflies in my stomach—surely my craving for his company, even in my thoughts, was unhealthy?

I wanted to think—or, more specifically, fantasize—about _him_. Relive the feeling of his cool, strong hands entwined with mine. The smell of his wintry, delicious breath as he whispered private things to me. In my daydreams, his whispers were not mere comforts he felt obligated to fufill, though I desperately yearned for _any_ whispers—no matter how professional—from_ him_. 

His whispers in my _daydreams_, on the other hand, were not at all professional...

"Esme? _Es-meee?_" Alexandra called in a sing-song voice as she distorted my name, waving a hand in front of my face. I must have drifted away as I thought of Doctor Cullen. Wretching my eyelids open, I was relieved to see that Alexandra's face was playfully impatient—not grudgingly.

"Alex-_andraaa_?" I sang, trying to be enthusiastic, matching her playful tone. Alexandra's happiness effected mine—I felt my own mood lift remarkably. 

"You didn't hear the beginning of my story, silly! I was just telling you about how I convinced the nurse at the front desk to let me come in to see you. I was underage, so I had to tell a teeny white lie. I said you were in a critical condition and that I _didn't _know, _and I quote_, 'how much time you had left'! Can you believe it?" Alexandra's words came out distorted in the end as she nearly doubled over in giggles.

I laughed in spite of myself, unable to conceal my elation. Alexandra's happiness was one less problem I had to worry about, thus, resulting in more free time to daydream about—

"Say, have you tried that chocolate mousse? I'm going to go get some from the cafe." Alexandra's voice promptly interrupted my train of thought—and for that, I was grateful.

"No, I can't say I have." I said truthfully. As Alexandra backed out of the room, I suddenly remembered the critical information I needed from her.

"Alexandra—wait! I have a question." I started, glad to have remembered in time. I beckoned for her to come to the side of my bed, hoping to prevent any passerbys and the nurses—or worse—from hearing my embarrassing question.

My eyes nervously raked over the mundane hospital room, verifying our solitude. I sucked in some air, my heartbeat accellerating as I hesitantly prepared to ask a question, though I was absolutely _dying _to know its answer.

"When is Doctor Cullen coming back to check on me?" I asked in a quiet, unsteady voice, hating the sudden craving that flared up inside me everytime his name was mentioned.

Alexandra was silent.

"Er... I mean, do you think he will come back soon?" I hoped Alexandra could not hear the note of desperation in my voice as I rushed to fill the suddenly uncomfortable silence. My stomach churned as I nervously glanced up at Alexandra, assessing her reaction.

Alexandra's face blushed a deep shade of scarlet, and though she bit her lip with enough force that it turned white, she seemed to be fighting a smile. Her eyes held a mischevious glint that was normally only reserved for _'taboo'_ topics—as she liked to call them. Our slightly embarassed, slightly thrilled discussions of lovemaking and whatnot. 

Finally, losing the fight to her excitement,—as I knew she would—Alexandra's face lit up with a toothy, cheek-stretching grin. A clump of blonde hair—her overgrown bangs—fell in an annoying disarray in her eyes, though, for once, she did not promptly smooth it into place.

Instead, she leaned in closely, her elbows pressing against my metal lining of my bed. Her face was only inches from mine.

"That... _doctor_... has got to be the most _beautiful _man I've ever seen!" Though she intended to whisper, Alexandra's voice now squealed and rose several octives, exposing her sudden infatuation. An infatuation I knew all too well. 

Sighing in a theatrical way, Alexandra clasped her hand over her heart, gracefully reclining in her seat and crossing her legs. Closing her eyes in a dreamy manner, Alexandra pretended to fan herself—a mannerism we had adopted a while ago while imagining ourselves as elegant, fashionable women from the Victorian era. But now, in her current state of infatuation, it seemed almost fitting.

"Yes, he is." I sighed, agreeing. _Of course she finds him attractive,_ I mentally chastised myself. I would have been a fool to think otherwise. And though, logically, it did not make sense to feel anything more than admiration and lust towards the man, I could not seem to pinpoint the sudden pricks of annoyance, sparked by Alexandra's infatuation.

And though I knew it was wrong, hypocritical, and silly, I could not help but acknowledge the peevish feeling as _jealousy_.

Vehemently rejecting the mere _possibility _that I could feel competetive for the attention of a handsome doctor—an adult, no less—I ignored the pricks of jealousy, focusing on the task at hand.

"So, you never did answer me..." I began, my voice teasing and playful... on the surface.

Alexandra's eyes flew open, as if the sound of my voice had interrupted her from a happy and restful daydream.

It probably had.

"_So,_ do you _know_ when Doctor Cullen is coming back to check on me?" I pressed, aware that impatience and urgence had begun trickling into my voice. I hoped Alexandra hadn't noticed.

Though, clearly, someone _else_ had.

Much to my shock, as well as Alexandra's, an all-too familiar voice laughed behind us, coming from the doorway.

"Hello, Esme. I am pleased to see that you are better rested. I trust you slept well?" He asked wryly, a smile playing on the edges of his lips.

Mortification shadowed my every other emotion. It clouded over me—overwhelming, sudden, and powerful. I felt my face flush in chagrin as I realized Doctor Cullen had probably heard...

My question. My embarrassing, uncalled-for question meant _only _for Alexandra's ears...if that. And here stood Doctor Cullen, in all his breathtaking glory, in the doorway of my hospital room.

He could not have heard more than my question. He_ could not_ have. Because, if he had heard Alexandra's declaration of lust for him and my vehement agreement...

I cringed simply imagining it. Oh, the _embarrassment_! My heart hammered in my chest as chagrin flooded my system.

Smiling kindly, but _knowingly_,—I added mentally, much to my horror—Doctor Cullen gracefully made his way to my side. He glanced first at his clipboard, then at Alexandra. 

"Hello, Alexandra. It is a pleasure seeing you again." The words were flowing and smooth, but I felt the undercurrent of amusement in them. With a flush of embarrasment, I wondered how Alexandra had managed to introduce herself to him. I tried not to remember the last time she made a show of introducing herself to an attractive boy at the store, having given into her theatrical tendencies. It had ended badly.

"Y-you too, uh, Doctor Cullen..." Alexandra stammered, unconsciously staring at him, admiring his features. If I didn't watch myself, I would probably be doing the same...

Doctor Cullen did not give her a chance to compose herself.

"I'm sorry, Alexandra, but I have some information to share with Esme regarding her injury. So if you wouldn't mind...?" His smooth voice with its lilting accent was so unbearably wonderful to listen to, I almost missed the intent of his words.

After a moment of delayed reaction, Alexandra suddenly came to her senses, looking at the door, and seeming to see it for the first time.

"Oh! Uh, sure, I don't mind." She scrambled awkwardly to her feet, throwing me a knowing glance as she went.

"Bye Esme! Hope you feel better." She called politely before shutting the door conspicuously behind her, though it had been open in the first place.

A sly, breathtaking smirk sat on Carlisle's too-perfect lips. His ethereal beauty stunned me for a moment, and I looked away from him, embarrassed, a moment too late.

Just in time for me to realize Carlisle and I were in a room—though in a hospital, no less—totally alone, with time to be spared and expectations to be met.

I gulped.

**Hey guys! So... what do you think??**

**Are there any scenes you would like to see between Carlisle and Esme? I _love_ suggestions!**

**Pretty, pretty please leave me a review.**

**Merci beaucoup! (thankyouverymuch)**

**-xxtwilight**


	4. Leaving

**Note: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the Twilight series.**

The awkward, uncomfortable silence did not last long—Doctor Cullen was _much _too professional and efficient—and for that, I was thankful.

"How does your leg feel, Esme?" He asked, pausing for a moment to throw back my sheets.

I opened my mouth to say something,—_anything_—knowing that I should respond. But, embarrassingly, I could not seem to locate my lungs. Unwillingly, I wretched my eyes away from his breathtaking face, and focused on the wall behind him.

"Fine." My voice sounded raspy and unpleasant, a definite result of my nerves. Could I possibly _sound_ more stupid? Surely even Alexandra would not embarrass herself to this extent. I cleared my throat, vowing to never mortify myself again.

"Mm. You took quite a fall, there." Doctor Cullen murmured, continuing as if I hadn't spoken.

"I suppose. It didn't hurt, much, though." I added with a laugh, trying to lighten the uncomfortable atmosphere. I felt like saying '_It didn't hurt much because your face distracted me from the pain…'_

Doctor Cullen surprised me, yet again, by laughing. I stared at him in fascination, unable to tear my eyes away from him. His musical laughter stunned me—its sound was as light and wonderful as a baby's cooing, yet still somehow retaining the strength and masculinity that most men would _die_ for. His teeth, brilliantly white and perfect, flashed against his alabaster skin, their likeness stunning.

His beauty, heavenly as it was, left me breathless. My heart raced and my skin tingled, itching to feel his cool, calming touch…

"Esme?" He asked, the slight alarm and confusion in his voice catching my attention.

"Yes?" I asked, meeting his concerned gaze. With a painful flush of mortification, I realized I had been staring, wide-eyed, at the beauty of his face. I quickly looked away, letting a few stray curls fall in my face, hoping to hide the chagrin in my eyes, and praying that he would continue as if nothing had happened.

He seemed to understand.

Jotting down a few notes on his clipboard, Doctor Cullen continued with his examination.

"Do you remember about how long your fall was, Esme?"

"Not really. Ten feet? Maybe more." I answered, feeling confused. My mind seemed to rebel against me every time I tried to remember the exact moment I had fallen.

"Hmm." Doctor Cullen murmured, his voice barely audible, as he continued jotting down notes on his clipboard. I wondered what he was writing.

Seeming to sense my curiosity, Doctor Cullen glanced up, an absurdly handsome smirk on his face. I felt embarrassed that he, once again, met my gaze. But, of course, it was _impossible_ to look away…

"How old are you, Esme?" He asked abruptly. I was slightly thrown aback by his question. Shouldn't he have this information on file? It took me a moment longer to answer than usual.

"Uh, sixteen…" Though I did answer, of course, on a professional and curt basis, the question seemed somehow personal…

I banished the thought. How _embarrassing_. My imagination was sadly out of control, imagining meanings and implications behind his words that were, unfortunately, impossible…

I sighed. How wonderful it would be if my imagination was somehow correct, that Doctor Cullen might actually be somewhat interested in me, if on a personal basis…

"Sixteen?" His tone of voice, shockingly, goaded my imagination. His voice was brusque, but had an edge to it I had not noticed before… nervousness? Embarrassment?

"I haven't seen any climbers of that age." He chuckled suddenly, thwarting my daydreams. Of course he was only being polite, humoring me. Nothing more—and it was wrong to think he had meant more in the first place.

"Well," I said, laughing nervously. "My friend sort of convinced me to do it… she can be very persuasive at times." I tried to sound lighthearted as I chuckled, and I hoped he didn't catch the note of defensiveness in my voice. Heaven forbid he thought any less of me—a young lady, no less—for climbing trees.

"I think it was very brave of you to climb a tree that high." He said, his face and voice jokingly solemn, but his lip quivered. The expression was as hysterical as it was beautiful. I very nearly doubled over.

"Thank you… I can honestly say you are the first to say that." I said, somewhat soberly, still feeling the after-effects of the small giggle-fest. I was suddenly flying, feeling ecstatic. Doctor Cullen thought I was _brave?! _I very nearly fainted from the swell of elation the idea generated.

Doctor Cullen ruefully laughed with me, easygoing and fun.

"Well, I can't say I would _advise_ it, seeing as you injured yourself doing it," He motioned, with a chuckle, at the odd lump of white cast that was, sadly, my leg.

"I know. It was a stupid thing to do." I sighed, wondering when Doctor Cullen would come to his senses and scold me, as any other adult would, for climbing a tree. Oh, it was alright for a _boy_ to climb a tree—but a girl? No, of course not.

As Doctor Cullen worked silently on my leg, occasionally poking and prodding, I wondered when I would be able to walk again.

"When do you think my leg will heal?" I asked suddenly, interrupting the comfortable quiet.

"I would think you would be fully healed in a month, but you'll be out of the hospital in less than a week." Doctor Cullen looked up from his work and smiled kindly in my direction.

My stomach plummeted as I realized the intent of his words, repeating in my head, like a mantra. A week. A week. A week. Less than _a week _with Doctor Cullen.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…

**Hey guys! I am sorry it took me so long to update, I have been so busy with school. Please let me know if you want me to continue this story—leave me reviews on what you think, or any suggestions you have!**

**Thanks!**

**-xxtwilight**


	5. Time Can't Heal My Wounds

**Note: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the Twilight series.**

* * *

_**Time Heals All Wounds**_

_**It scares me to think  
that time heals all wounds...because  
it doesn't just heal,  
it takes away too.**_

_**With each day that goes by  
another memory dies  
Soon I'll have nothing left of you.**_

_**Time can heal my wounds, in fact I hope it does.  
But these memories are all I have of you.**_

_**I don't want to forget.**_

_**- **__**Kristi Grové**_

* * *

Can time heal _all _of my wounds? Is that really possible?

Because I don't think it is.

Weeks had passed, and yet I could not forget Doctor Cullen.

His blond curls, always so wispy and shiny, that I longed to run my fingers through them, just to see if they felt as wonderful as they looked. I loved the adorable way they fell in front of his eyes.

The sound of his laughter—so perfect and fascinating, it was impossible to tear my eyes away.

His mouth. His gorgeous, too-perfect lips, and the indescribable way they moved when he talked. The way his lips slowly curled up against his teeth, his entire face lighting up as he smiled. I felt that I could sit in a room and watch him talk all day, just to watch his lips move, and his heavenly teeth flash against them, even if I never heard what he was saying.

His hands. So white, cold, and _capable_… I wished I could touch them every day, only to be shocked by their impossible smoothness. No girls I knew had hands as beautiful as his.

It seemed every aspect of him was so excessively beautiful—even in my memory—that it hurt to think of him. It was like staring straight into the purple and yellow sky at the orange, evening sun. My eyes would strain and hurt to look at it, yet it was _impossible_ to look away—to miss its haunting beauty before day turned to night.

I wondered what he would do if he knew my world revolved around him. In the morning, when I woke up, his memory still sent jolts of excitement through my body. After a moment of savoring the memory of the face burned forever in place behind my eyelids, I would scold myself and try to think of something else. _Anything_ to keep me from yearning to see him again. I often failed.


	6. Twentytwo and Unmarried

**Note: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the Twilight series.**

* * *

_**As Time Passes By**_

_**As time may pass by,  
my love for you will grow each passing day,  
as the distance may set us apart,  
my thoughts for you will always remain the same.**_

_**- **__**Juan Duarte**_

* * *

Time may not heal my wounds, but pass it does. Even for me. Though Doctor Cullen's face still burned brightly, his memory forever in place behind my eyelids, time has eased the pain, as weeks turned into months. Months turned into years.

It was 1917, and I was twenty two. My friends knew something was wrong.

Alexandra had married in 1913, at eighteen, to a boy named Jack, who lived down the street from us. I was the bridesmaid in her wedding.

Melissa and Becky, two best school friends of mine, had both married in the summer of 1915. Melissa married a well-to-do young man four years older than her, after discovering the contents of his inheritance. Becky had run away with a farmer from Alabama.

Jessica had married in 1916 to a boy from our school. I was also the bridesmaid in her wedding.

Thus, leaving me, the last of my friends—unwed. I did not particularly _want_ to marry, and, as much as I hated to admit this, Doctor Cullen was the cause. Every time a boy asked me to dinner, or for a walk, I would see Doctor Cullen's face in my mind, forever youthful, and graciously declined.

Apparently, my mother had had enough of this.

"Esme Anne Platt! Are you honestly telling me that you rejected Travis _Jameson_… heir to his father's_ bank company_?" She yelled, pensive after my graceful "no, thank you" to Travis's vague request to "go out."

I shrank away from her, afraid of her angry tone.

"Yes, I guess I did…" I started, letting my sentence trail off after she shot me a withering stare.

After a few moments of highly uncomfortable silence—so quiet I could hear my heart beating fast in my chest—the aggressive, agitated look left her eyes and she sat down with a resigned air.

"Esme, oh, why…" she began, her voice weary and concerned. I understood now that she was not angry_ at_ me, but unhappy that a rather attractive prospect in her mind—a young man with good potential—had been rejected.

"I didn't like him, mother." I whispered, suddenly apprehensive. Mother was in her fifties, not as old as some of my friends' parents, but this weighed-down look made her seem ancient in her grief. I wondered how much worry I had caused her.

"Twenty two… you know, I was married at your age." she mused. Her eyes danced over the china set at the corner of the room,—a wedding gift from my father—holding a far-away look.

"I know." I whispered again, just as quietly. I quickly crept up, leaving the room as silently as I could, feeling I had displeased my mother.

I _would_ marry, just like my other friends, if that was what mother wanted.

**Hi guys! I will update as soon as I can. Please leave me a review so I know whether or not to continue.**

**Thanks!**

**-xxtwilight**


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